Smells Like School Spirit
by Stellaluna.3
Summary: In a world where Jess found out he was flunking out before it was too late to catch up, and now has to attend gym class with Lane Kim... two unathletic teenagers must join forces get away with doing as little as possible. These are their stories.


**A.N. I've always really wanted Lane and Jess to be friends. I also wanted to see them slack off in gym class together because, let's face it, these two would do as little as possible and find all sorts of creative ways to do it. The only problem was getting Jess to show up at all... So, in this story, let's just pretend that Stars Hollow High actually communicated with Jess' guardian about his absences before it was too late to catch up, and Jess was forced to show up and make an effort. Every day. For the rest of the school year. Oh, horrors! I would feel bad for him, but honestly I'm doing him a favor, because now he gets to graduate and take Rory to the prom like he wanted to. As a former high school artsy rebel/slacker myself, this incident and the next chapter are loosely based on my own experiences. I welcome more suggestions! Send me your stories, and I'll run them by Lane and Jess, because they're always looking for more ideas to get out of participating in althetics!**

 **So here we go...**

Jess Mariano strolled over to where Lane Kim sat with her back against the folded school bleachers, and was looking down at her with great amusement while casually tossing a rubber dodgeball between his hands.

"Did I just see you pull a Daria and get out on purpose?"

She glared up at him haughtily.

"Hey, how can you see around that _plank_ in your eye, _Jess?"_

His face screwed up in confusion. "What?"

Lane cringed.

"Sorry, Bible reference."

"Ah."

"Yeah, but anyway, I don't want to hear any judgement from you about slacking," she reprimanded sternly. "I _still_ don't know how you managed to be present for attendance and yet mysteriously disappear while the rest of us were running laps," she trailed off, shaking her head in both disgust and a little bit of awe.

Jess smiled secretly to himself and flopped down onto the floor next to Lane (without even bothering to orchestrate a legitimate "out," by the way). He half-heartedly threw the ball back into the middle of the game before throwing his head back to rest against the bleachers.

"A magician never reveals his secrets…" he drawled with his eyes closed and a smirk on his lips.

"You're such a dork." Lane rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, Lane. You're just jealous." Jess' head lolled to one side and he scrutinized her lazily. "And _sweaty_ , by the way. Jeez, how many laps did you guys _run_ today?"

Lane smacked him on the arm. "Hey, screw you, jerk!" she scowled, but he only seemed to look even more smugly pleased with himself. Well, _fine_ , if that's how he wanted to play it… "You're still wearing the uniform, though… I wonder how much Rory would pay me for a photo of you in gym shorts…" she teased.

"If Rory ever finds out, Dave is getting a photo of _you_ in gym shorts for _free_ ," Jess calmly threatened.

Lane shuddered in horror.

"Ugh, _fine._ Still, that's more effort than I thought you'd put in."

"Well, our draconian institution has attendance stipulations for buying prom tickets, so…"

"Awww!" Lane squealed and flailed her hands. She ignored the death glare Jess was aiming at her and kept gushing. "That's so sweet! I wasn't always sure about you, but now that I know you'll expose your scrawny legs to the world just to make my best friend happy-"

"You know, I've often wondered how well drumsticks burn…"

"Hey! I was being _nice_!" Lane pouted. Despite the fact that Rory's rather antisocial boyfriend was starting to grow on her (his taste in music _was_ impeccable), she still wouldn't put actual arson past him... Hoping to banish the terrifying image of her beloved drum set going up in flames, she decided to move on. "But anyway, my reasons for sitting out dodgeball are completely justified. I have a curse."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. Ask Rory, she'll back me up. My head has a strange magnetic attraction to spherical objects."

Jess snickered.

Lane's indignant posture was uncannily reminiscent of Mrs. Kim's, Jess observed. He cleared his throat and looked away uneasily.

"I thought you of all people would sympathize!" Lane remarked in a tone of shocked offense.

"Me? _Why_?"

"Because of what happened to you!"

Jess stared. "What the _hell_ are you talking about, Lane?"

Lane stared back, as if she were waiting for him to put the pieces together. She sighed in exasperation.

"Rory told me what happened?" Still nothing. "She wanted to make sure I got the real story instead of the rumors, since we're friends now."

Feeling out of his depth was not an experience Jess was used to, and he was getting more and more agitated.

"Lane, I have _no idea_ what you're referring to."

"You know, your…" she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "your black eye!"

Jess tensed.

"What about it?"

"Jess! You know… the football?"

A light of recognition finally switched on behind his eyes.

" _OH,_ " he breathed out, the expression on his face a strange mix of relief and extreme discomfort. "Oh, right. Yeah. Head injuries, you know? What can I say," he shrugged. He attempted a disarming smile.

Lane narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. He studiously ignored her.

"So, you were about to tell me about _your_ head injuries?" he prompted, hoping she would take the bait.

She did.

"Oh yeah! So, first grade, Rory and I were standing by a soccer goal post at recess-"

" _Not_ playing soccer, I presume," Jess interjected.

"Naturally. Well, we're standing there talking, and then BAM! The ball not only hits me in the head, but slams the _other_ side of my head into the goal post."

"Yikes."

"Yep. And _then_ , fifth grade, I got a basketball in the face in gym class. In the nose, actually. You would not _believe_ the blood."

"I can imagine."

"But in _seventh_ grade, I had the experience that has defined my dodgeball survival strategy ever since."

"The suspense is killing me."

"That was the day I discovered that I am actually really good at dodgeball."

"Huh."

"I was! But everyone _else_ on my team sucked, so I ended up being the only one left when there were like seven people left on the other team, and so that meant that I had seven people all aiming at _me_ , all at the same time."

"Nice."

"So, ever since then I thought, why even try? I don't need that kind of trauma. I mean, have you _seen_ how hard boys throw in this game? It's like they're actually _trying_ to kill you. Hey!" Lane suddenly exclaimed, "You're a boy!" It sounded like an accusation.

Jess raised one sardonic eyebrow. "No! Really?!" he mocked, his eyes wide in sarcastic surprise.

"So, explain yourself!" Lane ordered imperiously.

Jess shrugged. "Officially sanctioned physical aggression? What's not to like?"

Lane's lip curled in disdain. "Ugh. Boys are so stupid. But anyway, I get myself taken out early in the game, and then get to spend the rest of the hour relaxing in safety."

"Seems like a solid plan."

"It's been working so far. See, if I'm _already_ out, nobody can-"

WHAM!

A speeding rubber ball slammed Lane's head back against the bleachers and for a moment, the world went dark. She thought she could hear the distant sound of Jess swearing fervently, and then a pair of concerned brown eyes swam into view.

"Lane! Lane, are you ok?" Jess demanded, before whipping his head around and yelling, "Presby! You-!" ...his invective here disintegrating into a colorful stream of angry profanities directed at the other side of the gym, where Lane could hear jeering laughter, punctuated by the slap of a high-five.

Lane groaned as she sat up gingerly, re-adjusting her glasses on her nose. Her first action was to lift her face to the heavens and cry, "Really?!" Then she rubbed her forehead and remarked, "I think I actually blacked out that time."

Jess's face darkened with rage. "That's it," he muttered, grabbing the offending projectile and surging to his feet.

"Jess, no!" Lane called out, trying in vain to grab his shoe. "Jess! I'm ok! Really!"

Dang it! Rory was counting on her to keep her favorite delinquent out of trouble, at least until prom night. They had discussed this at length as soon as Lane had told her they were in the same gym class. But it was beginning to dawn on her that keeping Jess Mariano out of trouble might be easier said than done, if the maelstrom of chaos that had now erupted inside the Stars Hollow High gymnasium was any indication.

"Oh no," Lane groaned into her hands, as the shrill sound of a blown whistle cut through the noise and confusion.

"Mariano! Office! Now!"

Well… she had tried.

Chuck Presby lay curled up in a ball on the floor, whimpering.


End file.
